Flame On
by The Body Days
Summary: The children of the greatest super hero's ever known to man. The next generation. Mystery Peace, a volatile child if there ever were one, her anger ever present, buring inside her, her powers are her only release of that......
1. Preaching for Peace

The bus lands softly on the turf of the school. The students are rushing off it in clusters. Amongst them, a boy and a girl. They stand out from the rest. Best friends. Children of the greatest super hero's known to man. The girl, Mystery Peace, heavily clad in black, her dark eyes and hair. A younger female version of her father, Warren Peace. Her mother Layla, such a peaceful woman, could not understand the youths anger, and hate. A volatile child, if their ever were one. Unpredictable. She could flame up at any moment. But then again, you could also find yourself being slowly covered in blossoming fauna. Her powers combined, made her both creator, and destroyer.

And the boy, a friendly face masked with a careless look. He walks close to her, savouring the moments that they spend. In his mind he is screaming. His heart racing, but he just walks. No body utters a word as they pass. They fear her. She is a sitting bomb. After what happened, they don't dare look in her eyes, for they see an ever present spark. A flame, dancing solely in her pupil. It is a fearful sight, and no-one wishes to be a witness to it. The boy, Drake Stronghold, son to the famous Will. His mother, also a great super hero. Died. Before he got to know her, really. When he was an infant. He has the power of Telekinesis and all the time his powers grow. He learns new aspects of his powers, new ways in which he can conquer his mind, and use them. In his great sadness, and loss of his un-known mother, he helps his friend, to help herself. He helps her understand that she doesn't need to be alone. That she doesn't have to outcast herself from her family, because she feels outcast within herself. He offers her a well needed liaison.

As they walk they are watched. People watch the odd pair, walk along the grass. Nobody speaks they just watch. Afraid. Then a remark is made. An awful rude remark to them. She flames up. Anger boiling inside her. Her eyes glowing with fire, and fury. The group of observers are afraid. A fight. She is well know for her fights. She has anger problems. Her friend says something to her, and she listens. Carefully listening to the soft whispered words being said to her. This is usually how he reaches her, and calms the ever growing fire inside her, and gets her to drop it. She loves him. Dearly. And tries to do as he says. She knows he's trying to help. A further remark is made. She flames up to her shoulders now. Throwing fire balls, in the direction of the offender. Drake tries to stop her, calm her down. She's angry. The crowd has now dispersed, not wanting a singeing. He puts his arm on her back and she flames him, unintentionally. It was the shock of being touched. He yelps in the pain, and steps back.

"I'm sorry" she says. It's the first thing she's said to him today. He just nods. Subject closed. It was they way they communicated. Sometimes they could go days like this, sometimes they just talk. And talk. It was just them. The way they did things.

The day droned on, and soon turned to evening, leaving the students of sky high to go home. Drake said he wanted to go to Mystery's. That they needed to talk.

Sitting in the lounge, he began his speech. He had to end the friendship. Cut all ties with her. He had started feeling things for her. Things over than friendship, and he couldn't handle them. He couldn't deal with thinking of her like that. He loved her, but he didn't know how to act, how to react, it was alien to him.

She flamed up. Deep down her heart was breaking. She loved him, but he wanted nothing to do with her. Her anger boiled, and for the second time today, her arms reached soaring temperatures. She threw flame after flame at him, screaming and yelling.

"I hate you!" She yelled. She was now lonely. Alone. He was her saviour, and now, she was in need of saving again. She was now completely (in her eyes) alone in the world. He tried to back away from his fumigating friend, but he had no where to go. He threw things back using his power best he could, but she was to out off control.

(Warren Peace pov)

All I heard was crashing, and yelling, and smelt a familiar smell of smouldering. I knew what was happening. She was out off control again. So much like a younger me. It pained to watch as she cut ties with everyone. She only talked to me. Her mother would sometimes get distraught, because she refused to talk to her. I think she only talked to me, because we shared the same power. She had her mothers power alright, but refused to use it. Mystery once told me, "why be a creator of such beauty if all I feel, is misery." She told me that fire was her release, and immediately I related. When I walked in, I saw her. Flaming. At him. Throwing fire ball after fire ball. I yelled at her to stop. I flamed up myself, just so I could touch her. I grabbed at her shoulder, told her to cool off. She flamed up more. Yelling at her former best friend. Asking him why?. What was the problem?. He said it wasn't her. He just could no longer stand the situation. Stupid adolescent boy. Her whole body erupted in flames.

I have only ever full bodily flamed, once. In my whole life once. And here was my sixteen year old daughter, fully flaming for the third time. Oh no, this wasn't the only time. Last time she flamed, she set the car on fire. So I had to stop it, and you know, like now.

I regret having to have to do it, but trust me it is the only way. I flamed up, and threw fire at her. I couldn't burn her. But the force would knock her back. I threw flame after flame, until I found one big enough to get a result. She turned away from him, the flames stopped, and she collapsed. Her energy totally drained. I truly regret having to have done what I did, but it was the only way. I had to protect her from herself. I scooped her up, and she slowly became conscious. I let her stand. Drake walked over, and whispered to her, as her had done many times. A grave look of sorrow spreading across his defined features. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. Her arms flamed, and she turned away. He walked away, and out of the door. Tears splashed down her face, and onto her flaming arms, hissing as they dropped.

It pains a farther to watch his daughter cry. Even one as strong as her.


	2. Brazen she sat, alone in her mind

Brazen she sat alone each day. Waiting, for something that nobody knew, maybe, not even her, herself. Maybe it was her saviour, her silent whisperer, coming to save her from herself. From the constant growing emptiness inside her, that was consuming her soul.

The days passed, and with each, she saw herself becoming an outcast, alone, in her school society. He had always been there. Her friend, her love, the one that tamed the wild fire inside her, and brought her back to reality.

She had regular fights. And he was just another random observer, looking on, at the girl with the attitude problems. He never looked back, afterwards. Never whispered in her ear, to calm down never held her arm back, or wiped the blood from her face again. She was alone, and that was that.

It was only later on, after weeks of being apart, that it started. She cut her arms. Near her wrists, but never enough to make her lose too much blood. Just enough to make her feel better. Each time was a silent plea to him. Asking him to come back, and save her. Help her. She was afraid. Afraid of the silence that was so consuming, afraid of the dark, that filled every corner. Afraid of life without him there.

He was alone as well. But that he could handle, even though it was tearing him up inside to be away from her he handled it in different ways.

He saw her, alone, and wanted desperately to go and sit with her. To be close to her, and whisper in her ear. But then he remembered. He remembered the feeling he got when he did that. The feeling that was beyond friendship, and became afraid, afraid to let his feelings show. Too scared to apply himself in that situation. You could call him a coward, and he probably was. But fear and love are strong emotions…. they can drive people to do all sorts of things.

A happily ever after, overlooked, by foolishness of teenage hormones, friendship, and anger. A relationship in ruins because of life. And such is life. Such is the fact that, in life, nothing ever works out how we want. Sometimes it turns in our favour and sometimes not so.

"So Black My Eyes, And Cut My Wrists."

Sometimes you get the feeling you want to disappear, and watch people get upset, only to return and shout "SIKE!"

Just to get a reaction. To show people that they don't appreciate you. Or you don't feel a belonging. To show them, in a way, how much they'll miss you once your really gone.

Nobody should fear death, because in the end, it's going to happen. But some people embrace it. They want to die. And these are the feelings of our little protégé Mystery. Our leading lady. To her, death, was an option. But would she be brave enough to do the task. Could she really say goodbye to everything that surrounded her. To say goodbye to her Farther? Her Mother, and Brother? But most of all Drake?

The boy, or man, to distinguish is hard. The one that plagues her dreams, and haunts her nightmares. Forever lost in a world of up roar.

That night she walked home alone… nobody there beside her…

She walked into the empty house, and sat alone, her parents were away on business. She cried, letting each tiny droplet fall onto the table, her head in her arms. Hurt, and broken inside, she suffered.

"_In Pain and Anguish she stands alone,_

_Her heart bleeds black, heavy as stone,_

_And as the cold air, whips her ears,_

_Her eyes are wet, drowning in tears._

_Unwanted, unloved_

_She takes her strife_

_Alone in her house,_

_Alone with a knife_

_The blood runs fast, cold and dark,_

_She sighs in the release, of her heavy heart."_


	3. Dramatic recreation

He walked past Her house.It seemed liek alifetime ago,thathe could remember as they played together when they were small. And then still as they grew. He could rememberthe day when, with unspoken words, he became her silent watcher, carefully stalking each body movement, holding it strong in his memory, until, soon it became his obsession, to know Mystery inside out. To know the beauty before him.

Wise man once said many hands make idle work. But, what if, these hands were to caress? To know? To consume a person's soul, until, soon, they are unrecognisable, as two people anymore? Until, soon they become one.

He remembered the day when suddenly, he realised, that when he unnecessarily touched her shoulder, a slight brushing of hands, a locking of eyes, caused him to feel more than friendship. It caused him to love, with the heart of a lover. A companion. He remembered, how he realised that, this is what he had felt all along, and that he needed to withdraw. Get out. Escape the feeling in his heavy heart.

The throbbing of blood through his veins. How the room seemed to spin, and how he mind went hazy. Just at the sight of her voluptuous beauty. How he longed to run his tongue along her lip, caressing the piercing, claiming her mouth as his.

Almost by instinct, he knew when things were wrong. He often joked that they were soul mates. Each day, he felt, less and less full of life. Like somehow, somewhere, his energy was being transported to another being, or form.

As he took the familiar route, past his loves house, he saw into it. Into a window, and saw her. Crouched over.

Only! If only he had stopped a slight second longer, he would have seen the girl drowning in her own blood and tears. A searing sensation coursing through her, holding her close, in the cold, and dark.

Maybe if he stopped trying to fix things, and just helped, a long time ago, this could have been prevented. But no, she sat alone, her blood being spent. Forever lost, in a sea of souls. Being withdraw, until one day, we're all unable to make our way out. Until one day, our own confinements, our own prisons, will be the very fragment of our souls that makes us that little bit human. That little bit sane. The little bit that makes us love, hate, cry, and smile. That little bit of Mystery that was lost….

"_Stay for a while,_

_Watch me sleep,_

_Drowning in sorrows,_

_For which I weep,_

_The souls of others, _

_Lost long ago,_

_Just stay for a while,_

_Please, don't go…_

_Stay for a while,_

_Watch me cry,_

_Hold me in your arms,_

_Give it a try,_

_Stay for a while,_

_My final wish,_

_As darkness enfolds me,_

_Dead... I give in_

_Stay for a while,_

_They set me to rest,_

_My final place,_

_The best of the best,_

_But only with you,_

_Do I feel at peace,_

_Stay for a while,_

_Stay with me."_


	4. My friend is my killer

_Catch a falling star, and put it in your pocket, never let it fade away…_

Fading slowly into her death, his sun, his moon, his world, held her last thoughts of him. Held his memory dear, and close. Held him in her mind.

And if in fact, she were to die, he would never know of these feelings. He would forever think she never returned his satiated affection. Matter-of-factly. It was true.

Dark swimming pools of blood lined the floor. She was crumpled up against the wall. Desperately, she wanted to see him one last time. She his face. His fine features, illuminated, by the perfection, of sunlight. Have his breathe tickle her neck. Hear his smooth, sultry, voice that was calming. Never drown in his eyes. Never be told just how wonderful she was. Never be saved.

Laughing, almost manically, she thought of the Irony. The Irony of it all. Her parents. Her life. Her love.

Such a powerful emotion. Such, in fact, that Mystery, thought now, how she never really knew love. She never loved anybody. It was such a pointless emotion now. Hate overwhelmed her. Her best friend. It crushed her beating heart, and made her veins run black.

_When I wake up…_She thought.

But that's impossible. You can't wake up dead.

**Dead**

The next time her parents saw her, she would be dead. The next time Drake would see her, would be at her funeral. She would be no more.

She couldn't help but think what a waste of a life. If only she could have given it to someone else, who would have really appreciated it.

Off in the distance that seemed miles and miles away. Forever forgotten, she heard knocking. Shouting.

No words, just shouting. A voice that was alien to her. She knew it no more.

As her eyes closed, and she finally gave in, the last thing, those beautiful, glowing, sapphires saw, was an Angel.

"_Save me from myself,_

_Watch me come alive,_

_Animated and plastic,_

_Forsaken by life._

_As the dark dwells close,_

_And the end is near,_

_I am held in your arms,_

_In the sleepless bough,_

_Deep with fear._


	5. And A Thousand Hearts

It can take a second to ruin a lifetime, but it can take a lifetime to understand that one split second. Nobody understood. She was confusing. But maybe, they couldn't be bothered enough, to even try and find out.

Mystery opened her twinkling jewels. Looking around there was nobody she knew. A see of faces, nurses, doctors, surgeons, but over in the corner a soul of angel slept, rugged and messy. She felt dampness, and the tears slowly leaked. She was crying. She wasn't crying for herself. She was crying for him. For all the things she had done wrong in her life, for even in death she was a failure. She looked down, and saw the mass of bandages around her wrists, and felt an uncomfortable throbbing feeling.

She had been saved.

She didn't know whether to thank Drake or be mad at him.

"Paper Dreams."

A fake world, of people with no better direction in life, than to stick their noses in your business, it was infuriating to be alive, because everything was so messed up, and you have no belonging, and no control over anything.

And can you honestly say you want to stay? You want to stay in this place of pure objectionable infidelity?

A procession of artificial people, in their own imaginary subsistence, Liars, cheats, fakes, bogus live stock?

The sardonic pigs that tell us how to live our lives. "The Man"

Why a man, why not a woman?

Sexist anal-retentive mockers.

Mystery didn't matter to anybody anymore. So she thought. She was fighting a system that was around before the creation of the world. Of our very existence here on earth.

She was losing her own game.

She closed her eyes, and thought of the happier times in her life.

When she was a child. The times she had spent with Drake.

She was so caught up in her memories. That she didn't notice the lean figure tower over her. But she felt those warm lips on her own. And the words that were exchanged.

"I'm sorry, so sorry" –the Angel.

"No, it was me. It always is, I'm sorry for everything." –the outcast.

A finger on lips, a shush, and a girl wanting so badly to be lying in these arms.

"All that matters is that you're safe." –the saviour.

"I Love you." –The survivor.

Regret. Oh No! I didn't mean to.

A pause, a smile.

"I love you too"

**The End**

_"I live for you,_

_I breathe form your lungs,_

_I fill the air all around and consume,_

_You fill my dreams of these tiresome places,_

_Your being is my very soul,_

_I live to be you,_

_I live to love you,_

_I live to love _

_and know the knowledge of a thousand hearts beating as one."_


End file.
